


Mrs. Maudsley's Ball

by Benben15, Panstick



Series: Mr Parker's Proposals [1]
Category: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Benben15/pseuds/Benben15, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panstick/pseuds/Panstick
Summary: Mr. Sidney Parker wasted several opportunities to propose to Miss Charlotte Heywood.We are here, hoping to fix some of Sidney’s lost chances.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker, Sidney Parker/Charlotte Heywood
Series: Mr Parker's Proposals [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1965199
Comments: 60
Kudos: 191





	Mrs. Maudsley's Ball

It had been a harrowing night and day. If Mr. Parker had not found her in that alley off Honey Lane, things could have gone horribly wrong, and Charlotte really did not want to contemplate what those things could have been. A young lady, would not have had the experience or even knowledge to imagine such things, and she knew that whatever she had imagined, would not have been the worst of it. The time following those events, had not been much better. The arguments in the carriage, finally finding Mr. Molyneux, the “boarding house,” which had really been a house of ill repute, and the mad dash in the carriage to attempt to find Georgiana before all was too late, and lost. She was spent, emotionally, physically, and now she was questioning all of her opinions about everyone. Most of all, Mr. Sidney Parker. 

He had encouraged her to go to the ball, and after everything that had happened, she did not want to give him any more reasons to doubt her. He had told her that Tom had wanted her to go to the ball, and after she had accused him of not doing enough to help Tom, she did not want to be guilty of those same accusations. Georgiana insisted she go, as she only wanted to be left alone with her heartbreak. 

This is how she had suddenly found herself, pinned, prodded, and pushed into a glittering golden gown that Lord Babington had borrowed from his sister. The former Lady Babington was married and with child, so she would have no more use for this particular piece. It no longer fit, as she was in her confinement, and it would have been too out of date by the time she could have worn it again. Plus, she already had a mask to match. It was unlike anything Charlotte had ever seen, let alone worn. The fabric felt thin and had the weight of a spider’s web. Substantial in strength, but gossamer light in appearance. She felt different as she wore it. Her hair had been smoothed and pinned close, and the ends had been twisted into curls, tighter than her own. She was nervous, and unsure. 

****** 

"Does it not suit me? Will it not do?” She hoped Mr. Sidney Parker would help to calm some of her concerns.

His dark glare made her stomach twist and brought a worried tremble to her face. It had been a difficult 24 hours, and she feared that the uneven footing of their interactions might cause her to stumble all night. This man was a conundrum to her, and lately only her stubborn nature made her able to walk straight into the disapprovals she seemed to evoke in him at every turn. Now, she stood frozen in her uncertainty. He watched her for a moment, lost in her beauty, fighting the urge to spring her wild curls out from the scraped back jail of pins. It took too long for him to realize that she had in fact asked him not one but two questions. Afraid to spill his heart out through his mouth he just cleared his throat and answered more brutally than intended. 

“It will do very well.” Barely able to keep her eye contact. 

A small insecure frown told him that his answer hit the wrong mark, and his heart dropped. He was just about to say something more, when Tom impatiently cried out that they were running late. Sidney rolled his eyes and instead offered Charlotte his arm. He formed a plan in his head; he would ask her to dance and tell her how beautiful she was and how much he... His courage fled before he could even finish the sentence in his head. He wasn’t even sure how he would have finished that sentence, or even, if he wanted to. 

The ball was already buzzing with too many people but it was still the most mesmerizing thing Charlotte had ever seen, and she felt completely out of place. Sidney could feel her uneasiness by the way she held on to his arm for dear life. Before he could say anything to her, Crowe and Babington had made their way through the crowd to greet them. 

“Who is this spellbinding creature, Parker? I demand you introduce us at once!” His imbibed but kind eyes ran down her body and she chose to let relief over seeing a familiar face win the battle of mixed emotions. Babington elbowed him hard in the side. 

“It’s Miss Heywood, you buffoon. You’ve met her on several occasions.” 

“Ah, Miss Heywood. The mask becomes you.” He kissed the back of her hand, winked and left to “imbibe, carouse and make an ass of himself”. Sidney had just gathered enough nerve to ask Charlotte to dance when Tom announced it was time to work. He made some idiotic analogy to Nelson that Sidney did not quite catch and then Tom was off with Babington, leaving Charlotte and Sidney to themselves. Once again Sidney had misplaced his courage. They made some light conversation before he offered her his arm to go into battle. 

“Come, Miss Heywood. I regret that we are obliged to mingle.” He hoped that she understood his meaning. 

“SIDNEY!” They had been having a conversation in a sea of party guests. The irony of the crowd in their elaborate masks, merely covering the social masks that they wore every day, was lost on them all. The delicate flowers, the gentle candle light, the flowing wine, it was all a way to add another layer of protection, another layer onto their already curated masquerade. Tom’s calling out for Sidney in the middle of the crowd was like a gunshot in the perfumed air of Mrs. Maudsley’s reception rooms. 

Before he excused himself, to go to his brother, she had been asking to leave early. She told him that she was too opinionated, too outspoken until he had interrupted her. He was telling her not to doubt herself, that she was “more than equal to any woman there.” Then he had to leave. Babington was at her elbow, and kept her grounded in the push of the crowd. The only subject she could think to talk about was Miss Denham. Babington seemed disappointed, finally asking her if it was possible for a woman to change her opinion about a man in less than a day? 

Blinking, her eyes found Sidney across the room. Thinking, her eyes searched. Babington had forced her to see herself in his own doubts about Esther. Her opinion, her feelings for him seemed to change after _every_ day she had spent with him. Back and forth, back and forth, and suddenly the air was hot and she could no longer stand being in that room. Excusing herself she turned and walked as quickly as she could to the edge of the gathering. Searching for an outside wall, and an open window. Desperately! 

“My sentiments exactly.” It was the elegant and soothing voice of an equally elegant and refined woman, seated on a chair with a small book on her lap. Charlotte turned in shock. She had been taking deep breaths from an open window, not realizing that the small ante-room she had found, already had an occupant. She excused herself and apologized, but the woman was kind, and invited Charlotte to join her. “Susan,” she said, “and you are?” 

“Charlotte Heywood,” she responded nervously. She explained the drama and danger that had brought her to London. To find her dear friend, and help save her from ruin. The more she spoke, the more curious Susan’s expression became. 

“My dear, I hope you do not mind my saying, but you seem a bit befuddled.” 

“Do I?” knowing that Susan was correct, she confessed to her that she was. That, and the sudden influx of confusing memories after Babington’s inquiry, had left her with even more questions. “Mr. Sidney Parker,” had been the focus of these thoughts, and physical reactions she was having, which had led to her seeking the room in which they were now seated. 

“It sounds to me like you are in love with him,” Susan said very calmly. 

Charlotte protested, she jumped to her feet, gripping her hands together and twisting her fingers. It simply could not be! He was not the type of man she would fall in love with, and told all of this to Susan, hoping she would change her mind. 

“My dear. We cannot choose who we fall in love with! It is an affliction! Like the Measles.” Susan hoped to help her new young friend. Before she could continue and guide Charlotte through her emotional awakening, the man in question, strode into the room looking for her. 

Asking her to dance, and with Susan accepting for her, Charlotte was given Sidney’s arm. She placed her hand on top of his. Looking over at Susan, as if pleading for help, she was led from the room, and her new friend smiled a lovely grin of encouragement. With her knowing eye for matters of the heart, Susan knew these feelings between the two of them were mutually felt, and they were both, also mutually confused by them. 

Sidney felt her small gloved hand resting on top of his own as he led her to the ballroom and to their position on the floor. It was a waltz, and he suddenly felt like he might not be able to go through with it, to dance with her so closely. He had spent more than 12 hours with her in a carriage, most of it alone Why was he struggling now that they were in a large crowd? He asked himself. He bowed, and she curtsied in return. The first few steps were simple enough, shoulder to shoulder, and a small circle of steps, walking around each other. But, as the joined part of the dance began, he, without thinking, offered her his palm instead of the back of his left hand. They felt too familiar with one another at this point, to do otherwise. It might have been inappropriate, even scandalous if anyone noticed, but he seemed to forget that in this moment. He placed his right hand on her back, drawing her to him, closer than he should have, and he suddenly felt the room turning before he even moved his feet. His reflexes were the only things that helped him, and that the dance started very slowly, giving him enough time to get his bearings. 

He had been too bold, taking her hand like that, but he also felt compelled to keep it secure in his own palm. To keep her close to him. He was being selfish and he knew it. He just could not admit to himself, let alone say what he might be feeling out loud. Miss Heywood was confusing. Always popping up on the wrong side of his shield, challenging him in the most annoying manner that made him seek her company and her retorts on his character. She saw right through him and demanded that he gave of himself. Little did she know how undeserving he was of her attention and efforts. His draw-bridge was slowly lowering, exposing his true self to her. That would surely make her run for the hills. And that was more terrifying than her annoying and confusing presence. Somehow, he could not bear the thought of her not being his life. 

The memories of the last two days. The Cricket, the anger he felt when she told him of her involvement with keeping Otis in touch with Georgiana. The shock and the sinking fear he felt, when he discovered that the woman he had saved in the alley was her! Then, her help and clues in discovering where they were finally able to find Georgiana, and rescue her from that villainous man! He could not have done any of it without her. This lovely, golden, stubborn woman. This gentle, soft, strong and loyal friend. She had saved Tom from the Cricket, and helped him to save Georgiana from a fate worse than death. She was not just unlike any woman he had ever met, but unlike any other person he had ever met. Then suddenly tonight, after all her contributions, she was doubting herself before they left for the rout. He was the one who should be doubting himself. And he did. At this point he doubted everything. His heart was in open battle with his mind. Every conviction he had built the past decade was starting to crumble. He was lost. 

The dance had changed, and the second part was quicker, the laughter and smiles they shared seemed to release some of the tension they both were carrying. That beautiful smile of hers that lit her brown eyes like fire. The color of her dress simply enhanced all of her glowing features. He needed to tell her. She deserved to know how much he regarded her. Valued her, and was grateful for her presence in all their lives. The dance was ending, and with his thoughts constantly of her, and focused on their physical touch, guiding and leading her as they danced, he could barely force himself to let go of her. The movement of the other dancers around him shook him out of his trance, and he was able to shyly step back enough to appropriately bow to her curtsy. After letting go of both of her hands, he felt the intense stare, the feeling that he was being watched, and it was increasing. He turned his head to confront and find out who it was. The sight of a blond woman with familiar blue eyes made Sidney’s blood freeze. 

“Eliza!” Her name came out like the sound of a wounded animal. Their eyes met. She smiled. He felt as if a sinkhole was about to swallow him and he had to get away. Without thinking, and before Charlotte could say anything, he thanked her for the dance without meeting her own warm brown eyes, and left her standing on the edge of the dance floor. He fled. He ran, to an open door, not exactly knowing that it was exactly what Charlotte had done less than an hour ago, thinking about him. 

Standing outside on the terrace he lit a smoke, gripped the ivory holder between his teeth, and the railing in front of him with his hands. He tried to calm himself. Why was he always being challenged by fate? His past was suddenly and shockingly within reach, looking as beautiful as she had ten years ago. Should he go talk to Eliza? Could he forgive her? The embers of his love for her had smoldered for a decade, but they had also been extinguished. He closed his eyes, and tried to picture Eliza’s blue eyes looking lovingly at him. Her beautiful, doting, sparkling, loving...brown (?) eyes... He shook his head in an attempt to clear the image, but every time the blond hair he remembered, he envisioned for 10 long years, came forward as chocolate curls swaying from the sea breeze, and blue eyes turned into those brown sparkling eyes with a sprinkle of golden specks. 

A footman approached Charlotte, and informed her that Mr. Parker and the carriage were ready to return home. Anger pushed away confusion as she made her way out looking for him. It wasn’t until she was outside that she found him, waiting by the carriage. She attempted to look at him, to get some kind of response or answer why he had fled the dance floor. Instead, he helped her get in the carriage without looking at her. All the way back to Bedford place, he said nothing, his gaze was fixed on the dark emptiness outside. Susan’s words. Sidney’s behavior. He was right, he had asked her just the night before, “what do you know of love?”. If this was love, then she knew nothing of it, and her anger grew, fed by two of the most powerful fuels; pain and confusion. 

******

Bedford Place looked innocently homely, with its windows aglow with the golden light from the warm fire and lit candles. A refuge, a place of rest and warmth. It seemed to be nothing but a promise of security. A very stark contrast to the dark hostile atmosphere in the carriage. Sidney helped her out, holding on to her hand longer than necessary. 

Her chest was heaving in an attempt to control her hurt, as he helped her down. The rejection that she felt. She had heard him say the name. She had seen his head turn, and where his eyes stopped. “Eliza.” Tom had just been speaking of her that morning, and now she was here, in London. She was beautiful, refined, elegant, rich, and now also a widow, apparently. When he ran off after seeing her, he never looked back at Charlotte. He still had not looked at her since his bow at the end of their dance. All of the revelations of the evening were building into an emotional explosion inside her, waiting to be coaxed out. For Sidney, the evasive courage he had been trying to get a grip on all evening, evaporated into thin air. He let go of her and left her standing, once again, and went directly inside. 

He had just poured himself a fortifying drink when she entered the room. Her cheeks were flaming and her eyes sparkled with a sheen of angry tears. Furiously she pulled off her gloves. 

“YOU! You left me! You left me standing there on the dance floor like a fool. You discarded me. What have I done to deserve that kind of disrespectful treatment? YOU asked me to come to the rout! YOU asked me to dance, I never asked for your favor, for your attention, and you left me there. Surrounded by people I don’t know, in a city I cannot stand, while you ran off to pine after your lost love!” She was hurt, she was angry, and she would not stop once she had started. 

"I didn't run off to pine after any lost love. I don't love her, you know!" He burst with anger. 

“I don’t know what you know, or what you feel. That is the way of an outlier, is it not?” Her eyes narrowed with each quick breath she took. Her stays felt even tighter, and she wanted to flee so that she could breathe, but her stubborn anger refused retreat. 

He looked at her, very aware that he had not really said anything to justify his rude behavior. He had indeed left her standing. Her retort hit its target spot-on and he almost stumbled. "I feel... I NEVER denied that I am an outlier. You knew that from the very moment we met." 

“Then BE an outlier. Continue pushing Georgiana away, your brothers, your sister. I am merely a guest in your brother’s house. I can be Georgiana’s friend without being yours. It has worked well enough until now!” She said defiantly. “Why do you insist on pulling me in? I never asked for your politeness. It seems too far from your natural countenance. Or at least the countenance that you are willing to show others! I’m surprised you even bothered to remove your mask tonight. It seems that hiding is your greatest comfort!” 

He poured himself another drink and downed it in one movement like a man who often sought to the liquid comfort of a bottle. His courage was all over the hill, his heart insisted that he give it try, but in the end, it was his fear of losing her that won - spitting out words - as only fear bestowed by the one you love the most can do. "Once again, the presumptuous Miss Heywood judges the character and inner life of the people around her. It doesn't really matter what I do or think or feel, does it? Because you certainly know better than anyone! I was wrong in bringing you back here tonight. YOU are the one I should be hiding from since you so expertly see right through me!" 

“It is a pity then, you intervened with that man in the alleyway. He could have saved you much trouble, I imagine, if he had been successful. Although, I do believe you would have failed miserably in finding Georgiana on your own. So at least in THAT respect you were able to help yourself.” Her voice dripped with disdain and sarcasm. She was fuming, and each attempt to throw her off only caused her to dig her teeth in more. “And I am QUITE sure that hiding from a young woman ‘who knows nothing, and has been nowhere,’ is too far beneath the great and fearless, Mr. Sidney Parker.” 

The notion alone of the man in the alley finishing his bad deed made the blood drop from Sidney's face and he swayed - dangerously close to either faint or to run to her, and wrap his arms around her to keep her safe from the memory of that monster. Defeated, he stood for a while, trying to gather his thoughts, finding the right thing to say. He knew that he had failed horribly until now. Clenching his jaw, he turned his back to her. The mixed feelings in the beginning of the evening had been confusing but they had all been positive and hopeful. Now he was feeling all kinds of hurt and defeat. Whatever he now knew that he felt for her, he had not been able to express to her. Instead he had pushed her away. 

His brain came up blank. He gulped another drink. Determined to end this before it started. To protect her from him more than the other way around, he bellowed. "If that's how you feel, Miss Heywood. Then FINE!" 

"Fine? Are you admitting defeat, Mr. Parker?" She could not understand what could have caused him to step back so quickly. He had never shied from an argument with her before. Not since the time they met on the balcony at the first Sanditon ball. 

He hung his head as he leaned his forearm on the mantel, his empty glass in his other hand. The fire was dying into coals, but the heat from their argument was making him sweat. He could only watch her from the corner of his eye. If he had looked at her, he would not have had the restraint he needed to control himself. To control and contain his truer feelings, the ones he knew he must keep hidden from her. Each barb from her was piercing his shield, and he was not sure how much more he could withstand. 

She waited for his response. Nothing. It was soon a minute that had passed, and her fury was not quenched. She moved next to the chair that had separated them, and set her mouth as her chin looked up at him. If he refused to respond verbally, she would not show him fear. Her need to confront him overrode all of her logic. He was bigger, stronger, a fighter, but she did not care or think in this moment. She took two strides towards him, less than a yard away from where he stood, so that he could not ignore her. She waited for a moment, hoping that he would turn around and say something. Something that matched the look in his eyes during the dance. For a second, she had thought that he perhaps felt the same way about her. But now, after he had seen Eliza, he was cold and dismissive.

"YOU, may choose to behave like a miserable rogue! You are certainly succeeding in that, Mr. Parker. But do not expect me to tolerate your ill manners, and inappropriate behavior! If I suffer from the way you held my palm during that dance, if my reputation is tainted by YOUR reckless and forgetful behavior, I will not stand by and simply let it happen! You are NO gentleman, Sidney Parker!" Before he could even look at her, she had already turned and was storming out of the room. The gloves gripped tightly in her right hand, she swung them with a slap at the high back of the chair as she fumed past. 

Without thinking he followed in pursuit, not sure what to do or say - his only thoughts, on her words about her reputation. Oh, he had acted selfishly all evening. Truth was, he could still feel the imprint of her small hand in his. 

Standing in the hall, he watched her walking angrily up the stairs, walking away from him. Leaving him, and his heart ached. He knew it was now or never, and for once in his miserable life, his fragile heart took action. 

"I love you, Charlotte!" The words came too loud, too fast and too late, he feared. 

She stopped walking. It was a start. She had given him another chance to explain himself properly. Frozen in his own steps, he continued. "You evoke feelings in me like no one has before. You challenge me in the most frustrating manner, because I cannot be a lesser man than my best self around you. Yet, I find myself wanting to be around you. Seeking your retorts. To revel in your admonishments of me.” 

She was stunned. Unsure of what she had just heard. 

"It is confusing to me how easily you have broken down my defenses. They have withstood so much, for so long. You hold my heart. It is left unprotected and frightened. When I saw Eliza tonight... I didn't leave you for her or because of her." He began to walk towards her. "You evoke feelings in me that I thought I had buried a long time ago. And yet, they feel new. Seeing Eliza again made me realize that I’ve never felt this way before. Not even with her. I left, because I have no business imposing my affections on you. My confused, shattered and imperfect love. You deserve so much better than me." 

He walked slowly up the stairs, hoping that he had not scared her off, longing to touch her. For every step, he held his breath in fear that this was the one that would make her continue her escape from him. Her hands were balled into two small fists, her gloves still in her right hand. Her shoulders, still shaking from her tears. She didn’t turn. A few steps more and he was standing on the step right behind her, and his head was level with hers. His breath made the silky skin on her neck prickle with goosebumps. Fascinated by her body’s reaction to his closeness, he resisted the urge to blow on her neck. Her scent made him sway slightly and breathe harder. A quiet gasp escaped her lips when his breath hit her again. For a while, he wondered what it would feel like to let his lips follow the curve of her neck. 

“I love you, Charlotte. Would you please turn around?” He spoke softly, gently. When she didn’t move, he gently let the back of his fingers graze gently down her arm toward her hand. She turned her head over her shoulder to look at him as he turned her around. For the first time in their acquaintance they were at eye level. With a beating heart and bated breath, he looked into her beautiful brown eyes sparkling from tears and emotions. Her tight hairdo was slightly disheveled. He liked that; it was more her. Tears were still flowing from her eyes. The dimple in her chin trembled, as did her lower lip. Slowly he pulled the pins out of her hair. They both let out a sigh of relief when her chocolate curls cascaded down her shoulders. Smiling softly at her, he tucked a stray curl behind her ear and thumbed away some tears. He ran his fingers up and down her arms. His heart drummed in his chest. 

“You are so beautiful, Charlotte.” It was whispered like a confession, something he had been holding back for far too long.

"You, love me?" She whispered.

"With my every breath, and my every heartbeat. You are my guiding star, Charlotte. I find myself lost without you." She deserved to know his true feelings even if she didn't return them.

She looked at him, and her eyes moved from tears of pain, to smiling with tears of happiness. "I love you too. I did not know that it was love until tonight. I knew nothing of love, just as you said. But now, I cannot seem to escape it." She held his hand nervously, and looked at it before looking back into his eyes. "I do not want to escape it." 

"Neither do I. I've been thinking about your words at Lady Denham's luncheon...that you would only marry for love. For a mutual love and affection. I must ask you... If you think that my love and regard for you is deserving of your love? And if you do, I would very much, like to ask you to be my wife, Charlotte. Would you marry me?" The seconds where he waited for her answer felt like years. 

Her soft smile answered before she did. "You are deserving of my love, Sidney. You must be. You already have it... It is yours.” She spoke softly, overcome with his honesty, and the realization of the depth of her own feelings. 

"Is that a yes, Charlotte? I need to hear you say it." He was so close to everything he wanted. He had to hear her say, “yes.” 

“Yes, Sidney. I would be honored to be your wife.” She could no longer stop her wide smile. The joy was too great.

His lips closed the small gap between them. Gently brushing hers. He had dreamt of this moment, he had hoped for this moment, and it was here. He would savor each second of it.

Her tears were gone, her anger replaced by a warmth she had never felt. Her heart seemed to be growing inside her, as his lips touched hers. 

Carefully he pulled her lower lip, waiting for her to respond to his kiss, eager to not move too fast. She reached her hand to the scruff on his cheek, inhaling the closeness of him. She was not experienced in kissing, but she could not imagine that it could be better than what she was feeling with Sidney right now. Just as with their dance, she followed his lead, and moved her lips with his. Spurred on by her response he pulled her close; one hand on the small of her back, the other cradling her head. He needed to feel her body close to his. He needed to know she wanted him, and his feelings grew with each moment. He was finally letting his love for her show itself, and it was liberating. For every time she followed his lead, he deepened the kiss. 

Her knees were weakening when he pulled her close. she felt as though she could buckle on to the steps, for every fiber that had been angry with him before was now clay in his hands. She was only able to pull away when the grip of her stays made it impossible for her to catch her breath. Her lips felt plump, and she opened her eyes to look at him. Her blushing cheeks and kiss-bruised lips made him smile. He leaned his forehead against hers. 

"You mean it then? You really want to marry this confused brute of a man? 

She nodded and smiled with her reddened lips. He wrapped her in his arms, burying his head in her loose hair. "I promise you Charlotte. I promise I will be a good man for you." He pulled back to look at her eyes as they sparked with emotion. "I believe I am my best self. my truest self when I am with you." 

"You were never a brute. Just private, and guarded. I am sorry that I doubted you in the beginning, but you are indeed the best of men." 

Never had Sidney known that he could be this happy. He took her hand and escorted her to door of her room. She blushed when he kissed the back of her hand affectionately. "Good night, my lovely betrothed."

"Good night, my dearest Sidney." She smiled adoringly at him, and then she pushed up onto her toes to give him one last kiss. "Although, I am sure I shall not be able to sleep." 


End file.
